


desire in the darknes

by sultrygoblin



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Dubcon Kissing, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Manipulation, Obsession, Possessive Behavior, Public Blow Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25657051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrygoblin/pseuds/sultrygoblin
Summary: passive series - who are you afraid of? the ghost within? show me your blackened soul and kiss my lips
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> originally i was going to make this a big piece on my 18+ blog. but i lack new steve content here and i’m blocked. so thought i’d bring it over here to be a series if people like it. let me know

It’s late when you wake up, it’s a sudden sensation. Heart pounding, ears ringing, shocked from a nightmare you don’t remember. You know it scared you. The shadows from the trees outside no longer comforting, especially when they scrapped along the glass. You don’t think, just act, diving from your bed and out the door into the dim corridor. There in the light, you’re able to catch your breath. Your heart begins to slow along with it. The unease never leaves, that nagging feeling that something was just steps away from grabbing you for one nefarious reason or another. The lounge is your next clear thought, if someone wasn’t there someone would be eventually. Even then it was an open space, with bright lights and a big, and more importantly distracting, television. Finding Steve in there was more than you could ask for. Not only was he the embodiment of safety and gentlemanly charm but it only seemed to stoke your crush. Coming to him when you’re scared and desperate for safety.

“Well, aren’t you up late, doll?” he asks, rising from his chair with a smile wide on his face that suddenly falters when he sees your face, “You alright?”

You swallowed hard, “I think I had a nightmare,” realizing how silly it sounds only once it’s fallen from your lips, he looks at you with nothing but kindness, “I don’t remember it. I just woke up terrified,” finding it didn’t quite fix it but it was enough of a band-aid to keep you from feeling like a complete idiot, “I just thought…” deciding it was better to be quiet you rubbed the back of your neck and bit the inside of your cheek.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he steps slowly towards you with that smile that makes your insides melt, “Well, except to tell me how to help, I guess,” laughing softly and you can’t help smiling

You shouldn’t take advantage but it’s such a small thing. He won’t even know and it would honestly help. Rubbing the top of your foot along your calf you worry your bottom lip between your teeth before deciding it’s worth trying. The worst that happens is he says no or it’s incredibly awkward. Eventually, you’d get over it or die of embarrassment. Steeling your nerves, you smile and take a calming breath.

“I mean, a hug is always nice,” you offer, as if you’d truly had to think about it.

He nods, that small smile morphing into a grin, “You know, I think I can manage that,” he closed the distance between the two of you.

You hadn’t expected him to sweep you into his arms tightly but he did. You clung to his shirt, eyes closed, drinking in the woodsy smell of him. The heat that rolled off his all-encompassing frame in waves. You lost yourself in how safe it felt in his tightening grip. Until you were dizzy with him, feeling your legs wobble and hoping he didn’t notice before becoming distracted by what you thought felt like a rumble from his chest. That grip tightened, his face dug into your neck, the sharp feel of his beard sending shock waves through your body you had to clamp down to control. 

It all happened so fast you weren’t quite sure what to do. 

Pressed suddenly into the wall, Steve looking down at you with a dark hunger that you could never have imagined from him. Your mouth is dry, your body locks, and there’s the hope that maybe you’re misreading everything. Just a second ago you had been locked in an embrace you had hoped might be considered loving, now his eyes have darkened and it as if he wants to devour you. His fingers brush along your skin, pulling the strap of your nightgown off your shoulder, it stopped at your elbow, the fabric taut around the swell of your breast and exposing its outer curve. He wastes no time in pushing the second strap from your skin. The thin nightdress pools at your feet, there’s the instinct to cover yourself but you can’t move. You just swallow hard, trying to catch your breath without gasping for air. He groans, it’s almost frightening, his fingertips tracing a circle around your areola. Watching the way your nipples strained on instinct and from the cold-not because you were enjoying this- with an equally dark chuckle. After giving the same attention to the other he slid his hand downwards. You tried to clench your thighs but you were no match for the super-soldier. Whether by speed or forced he’d managed to cup your entire exposed sex in his hand before you’d clamped down. Which only pressed him deeper into you with a sudden friction that made your face warm and skin prickle. 

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he whispers, his beard scraping the sensitive skin of your cheek when he drops his lips to your ear, “Walking around like you’re not showing off for me.”

“S-Steve,” you finally managed to stutter out, your arms still anvils at your side, “I don’t-”

“You do,” he hisses, working his thick middle finger between your lips, “Like that nightgown,” he kicks it out of the way into the center of the lounge, stealing any chance at modesty you might have if someone were to walk in, “Showing me everything.”

“I didn’t know you were here, Steve,” gasping when his finger moved against you, rubbing against that bundle of nerves you had only ever explored yourself, with no avail.

He clicked his tongue, “You did. Making up excuses to get me to touch you,” slamming his hand against the wall beside your head, you jump and it thrums his fingertip across your clit, “You wanted this.”

He moves his finger deliberately against you now, you squeeze your eyes tight, trying to focus on how this isn’t Steve. Something must be wrong with him. Trying not to think about how it feels good. That you’ve had such a big crush on him for so long and thought he’d never look twice at you. But you didn’t want it to happen like this.

You push at his chest, “Steve.”

He grips your wrists tight, slamming them sharply above your head, and you winced, “It’s okay,” he soothes, applying more pressure to you in an attempt at distraction, “Just let me give you what you want,” he seems just as desperate as you feel.

You shake your head, his finger teasing around your entrance, “I’ve never,” your eyes widening, “Steve, I’ve never-” somehow your need to protest can’t climb over your embarrassment of being the one to say it out loud. 

It’s the wrong thing, if anything he seems more pleased. Pressing just the barest tip of his finger in you, it feels good, you know it shouldn’t when it’s happening like this but it does. Somehow he knows that, and he’s calculating someway to break you down. You don’t like his smile, it’s dark and somehow foreboding. He doesn’t so much kiss you as he tries to absorb you, trying to devour your very soul, and it seemed as if he might truly be capable of it. You submit beneath him, maybe if you do what he wants he’ll understand, he’ll take it slow. The way you had imagined he would. His neatly groomed beard scratches at your face as he presses harder and harder, you wish the wall would absorb you. If only to give you some space, room to breathe but there is none. 

He sinks into the second knuckle suddenly, you gasp, legs opening in an attempt to ease the sudden intrusion. It’s a different sensation when it’s not your own hands doing the work, he pulls away. Eager to finally have what he’s waited so patiently for, as he began to move gently in and out of you. Back and forth with one finger until it was buried completely in you and you could hear yourself whimpering from the sudden onslaught of pleasant sensations. A second finger joins the first without warning or anytime to get used to it.

You yelp, “Steve,” your voice pained, you’d only dared two of your fingers a few times and his were much larger than yours, “I can’t-”

“You can,” it’s soft, a coo as he presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, “You have to,” his hands speed increases, “Just trust me, I know how to make you feel good.”

You do, even though all the evidence laid out says you shouldn’t. You can’t help trusting him. You bite your lip and let him, his teeth digging into the soft skin of your neck and sucking harshly. His fingers moving so fast, almost violently. It’s not what you wanted from Steve but this is fine. He’ll make it up to you later, you’re almost sure of it. The thought lets you relax and soon it doesn’t feel quite so bad. When his grip finally releases, his nose tracing the curve of your cheek until his lips rested beside your ear.

“You’re so tight for me,” he says with such appreciation that it sends that new heat between your legs and his movements start to feel good, “There you go, sweetheart,” it makes your heart beat faster.

Suddenly it feels amazing, even as your body locks up and your vision can’t quite focus. Your first orgasm, you had only known it by name and the other girls’ description. You didn’t think this was the way you were supposed to have your first one, it didn’t sound the way Natasha or Wanda had described. But that’s all it could be and if it happened that meant you liked it. He had known, just like he said. Even though you want to ask him to stop when he keeps going, your nerves on fire from the first one you don’t. He clearly knows what you want, just like he said. Your compliance seems to spur him on and your over-sensitized nerves have you clamping down even tighter against his digits as a scream threatens to pour from your throat.

You barely bite it down but he knows it was coming. Next time you’ll be behind a locked door and won’t be afforded the luxury of silence. You’re scared for what you’ll sound like, what he’ll want you to say. At least tonight you don’t have to worry about it, feeling his fingers disappear from between your legs and watching them appear in sight before losing them once more between his lips. There’s something about the thought of him tasting you, of seeming to need it with the way he groans and his eyes threaten to roll. It brings a sense of pride which drags shame along right behind it. You’re in the lounge, where anyone could have seen, and you had just let him use you.

“Was that the first time you’ve cum?” You nodded shyly, he doesn’t have to ask the other question with so obvious an answer, “You did so good, sweetheart,” it shouldn’t make your heart swell but it does, easing your shame a bit, “I’m so proud of you,” he’s tugging off his overshirt and slipping it over your head, “That’s much better.”

“Thank you,” the words slipping out before you can stop them.

“There’ll be a lot more where that came from,” stroking the dark mark on your neck with the tip of his finger, “I want you to wear this tomorrow,” it’s not a question, plucking lightly at the fabric, you smile.

When he kisses you it’s soft, holding your chin lightly while his other hand smoothed along your side. Butterflies flit wildly in your stomach and you fall into him like you should’ve when he kissed you the first time. You wish you could go back and change it but you can’t, so you throw yourself into this one. Arms around his neck, lost in the soft way his lips move against yours. All too soon he pulls away, smirking down at you in a way that makes you feel so small and worsens that dampness between your legs.

“Time for bed, sweetheart,” you’re sure your heart will burst, “Not sure I trust myself if you stick around,” he winks, you gulp, letting go slowly as he steps back, leaning forward to grab the nightgown, “You won’t need this anymore, will you?” again it’s not a question.

The sound of ripping fabric echoes in the room. It sends shivers down your spine, somewhere between pleasure and fear. It doesn’t seem right, almost dirty. But he smiles at you and suddenly you can’t quite remember which hand is your left.


	2. let it all burn down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> his darkest desire is an ache for you that he can no longer control

You wear it, just like he told you to. You’re sure though, once you’ve got it on and tucked into your jeans, that you would’ve worn it even if he hadn’t. The plaid fabric surrounds you in the smell of him and there’s no question who it belongs to. It reminds you of last night. Kissing him, the indescribable but addictive sensation he’d dragged from you, upon revisiting it was much more romantic in your mind. Pressing you against that wall and needing you so much he couldn’t help but ravage you right there. You can feel the heat pool between your legs and it’s a reminder that it’s time to start the day. 

You’ve got a meeting with Maria and then you’ve got to go down to the weapon’s lab. They’re over budget again and you know why but the answer isn’t going to please the people above Fury. You’ve got to scrape together enough of an answer that it can at least hold water when brought to them. You were so focused on your list you didn’t notice you weren’t alone. Something he seemed to take far too much enjoyment from. Grabbing you around the waist and hauling you back against him.

You yelped, struggling for a second before his laugh broke the air and you melt against him. His nose is pressed against that dark mark that would have been impossible to cover up and you decided wasn’t worth the effort. A small voice had said he would be angry if you did but you were quick to smother it with the point he might think it meant you were ashamed of what you had done. You could never be ashamed of the fact he wanted you, more than you could have imagined. Two of his fingers dip between the buttons near your sternum, groaning against your ear when his fingers brushed your bare skin, making it rise in response. You should be thinking about how you’re going to be late for your morning meeting but it’s hard when his beard drags along your already oversensitive neck and wracking your whole body with a shudder.

You can feel him digging into your back, it scares you and for a moment you wonder if he’ll take care of it the same way he had taken care of you last night. Thankfully, that doesn’t seem to be his plan, feeling him plant gentle kisses around the bruise he was so proud of. Stroking along the skin hidden beneath the shirt, you’re sure you’d fall without his grip on you. Something about him always had made your brain muddled and words a little harder but now... It was all confusion and pleasure, a wonderful mess you didn’t quite want to untangle yourself from. 

“I hear you’ll be visiting weapons today,” you nodded slowly, feeling him grin against you, “I’ll see you there, then.”

Suddenly he was gone, completely disappeared from you and turning the corner by the time you’d come to your senses. That heat between your legs has worsened, that neediness for him and you feel a sudden ache for the sudden stretch of his fingers from the night before. You’d properly enjoy it now. But it’s not an option. You close your eyes, taking deep breaths till they no longer stuttered before running to the meeting. Thank God Maria was running late herself so you made it on time but not without a few pointed looks at the dark mark on your neck.

You went down the list of what Fury knew and had already gotten across, what you needed to piece together, what could be fluffed, and what to avoid. By the end you were in full work mode, all memories of Steve Rogers tucked into a special compartment in the corner of your mind. You had your folder, another list to run through and you’re sure you’ll manage to hold it together. For the most part. Steve’s words weren’t completely pushed away, clinging to the edges of your mind like glue. Hand on the doorknob and then that clearing of the throat that hid nothing, no matter what she thought. You should’ve just kept going but you’re wracked with the feeling that it’s at you and not in a good way.

“Something else?” you asked softly, turning to look at her.

She leaned forward in her, looking at you like one would a rain soaked puppy, hands perfectly poised on her desk, “You sure you’re ready for something like that?” gesturing towards your neck with her eyes, “I don’t mean- I just...Nat mentioned you’re not very experienced and that seems really fast.”

She wasn’t wrong but she didn’t know, it was something you had to be there to understand, “It’s Steve, Maria. Do you really think he’s someone you need to worry about?” he’d never really hurt you, just a little, just till your body figured it out, that’s all.

She smiles at you, “You’re right,” shaking her head, her face turning a light shade of pink, “God, I feel so embarrassed for even thinking it now.”

You laughed a little, “It’s alright. You’re just looking out for me. Like a good friend,” finally turning the knob and leaving the room.

It’s like her words do something to the ones Steve had left, they break all the other thoughts of him out of their cage. If it weren’t for the files to jog your memory you would have had no idea what exactly you were doing riding the elevator down to the weapons floor. You’re trying to read them but you’ve read the same sentence what must be a dozen times and it’s like taking Latin in college all over again. Trying to shove the feeling of his fingers inside you and the pride that swelled in you as he all but called you his good girl. You try to banish the thought before your mind can twist his voice into those two words and it only works because the door opens. 

Except it’s _him_ standing there, casually, as if he’d just happened upon you. Which can’t possibly be true but you can’t imagine him waiting impatiently for you to show up. Suddenly you crave the words from him and you can all but see his lips forming them. All but because they’ve twisted into that smirk you’ve easily come to recognize as something just for you. Every sensation you’ve felt since walking out of the lounge the night before washes over you a thousandfold. You lose your grip on the file that seems completely unimportant in the wake of him. He steps towards you and you know it’s too much to hope but you still do. It doesn’t surprise you when he ducks to grab it and slips it back into your hand. 

“We should probably get started,” hand on the small of your back, pressing your forward.

The entire time is like that, Steve is never more than a step away from you. Shooting harsh looks at men who had once jokingly flirted with you and made the mistake of trying it again today. It wasn’t really his fault. How much more obvious could you two get? No, those men should have just been quiet. You run through expense reports, invoices, everything and anything that has to do with money. You’re sure he must be bored out of his skull but every time your eyes stray he’s looking at you with unfaltering interest. It always makes your train of thought stop and you sputter nonsense as you figure out where you left off. Apologies are almost automatic by the time you’ve gotten all the information you possibly can and thank everyone. It’s time to sit down in your office and go over everything, that’s what you’re supposed to do.

“I’ll walk you,” he says, smiling as you make your way back the way you’d come.

Once on the other side of the elevator's door, that hand on the small of your back grips the loose fabric around where his shirt tucks into your jeans, the other yanks at the emergency stop. There’s no alarm, there should be. You’re not sure how to feel, somewhere between flattered and trapped. The fabric moving against your skin as he drags it from the band of your jeans pulls a tiny sound of pleasure you didn’t even know you were capable of making. 

“If we only had the time,” he sounds almost sad and you don’t quite understand what he means.

He has his own plans, spinning you so he could devour your mouth. It steals your breath and stops your thinking, all that matters is tongue memorizing the taste of you, his fingers working at the buttons of his shirt that you wore until it hung open. Only then does he break the kiss, looking down at your sheer bralette now exposed by the length of skin he greedily exposed. He groans, gripping you by the back of the neck and pushing downward. You don’t know what he wants, only that he’ll get it one way or another, and move quickly onto your knees.

“You have been such a good girl for me, you know that?” brushing his fingers along your cheeks as his other worked at his belt buckle.

You swallow hard, not really knowing what to say you smile nervously up at him, “I just want you to like me,” hearing your voice quiet until the last world all but disappears in your embarrassment.

He bites his lips, thumb stroking the heavy round of your bottom lip, “Let me show you how much I like you, sweetheart,” there’s a muffled thump followed by the sound of a zipper lowering, “Open up,” pinching your chin between his fingers and urging your jaw lower and lower.

You close your eyes, attempting to will away that same embarrassment that you had experienced last night, any minute the elevator could be pulled from the forced stop and someone would see you. Something warm and soft brushes your bottom lip, liquid smearing across it. Your tongue swipes against it instinctively, a strange saltiness coats your tongue, you must have done good though because you hear Steve exhale long and slow.

“Wider,” patting your cheek lightly and you obey, reminding yourself of the moment earlier today with Maria, “Tongue out,” it’s an odd request but you follow it, Steve would never really hurt you, “You are so beautiful,” he just had to show you.

He slips between your lips, surging forward until he bumped the back of your throat. Your eyes snap open and widen as you choke, your hands want to scrabble along his hips, push him away, instead you clench the wrist cuffs of the shirt tightly. He holds himself there for a second, emerald greens that were bordering on pitch in the red light of the elevator searching your own eyes. Whatever it was he was looking for he seems to have found, he pulls back slowly, never pulling himself completely from your mouth. You inhale sharply through your nose, two big deep breaths and he does it again. It doesn’t seem so bad once you’ve gotten used to it, an awkward sensation that isn’t exactly comfortable. There’s more spit than you had imagined, you make guttural noises that make him groan every time, but the look on his face more than makes up for it. 

“Everything alright in there?” the speaker by the panel crackles.

Your eyes dart, readying to pull yourself away, he grabs the back of your head and pushes, “I really wish we had more time,” he sighs, shushing you as he pressed your nose to his pelvis, groaning with a roll of his eyes when his thumb presses the call button, “Looks like the emergency stop button got jammed.”

He talks to the man as if he wasn’t buried in your throat. As if your eyes aren’t watering, your lungs aching for air, every part of this seems like it shouldn’t be okay, the kind of thing your friend had been worried about when she said _really fast_. But he’s looking down at you with such adoration and pride, you tell yourself it can’t be. You just don’t know yet, you don’t understand. All Steve is trying to do is teach you. 

His thumb slips from the button, “I really thought we’d have more time, sweetheart,” pulling his hips back just enough to let you drag in a harsh breath best you can, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he looks genuinely disappointed, rubbing his thumbs along where the tears have tracked down your cheek, you nod best you can, “ _Good girl_.”

His hips snaps, thrusting rapidly back and forth, he moans when the gagging noises getting louder. Faster and faster, the speaker crackles with a promise everything should be solved in about two minutes. He moves at an impossible speed, your knees and jaw ache, sure now he’s chasing his own end and realizing only seconds before what that meant. Warm liquid fills your mouth and throat, he pulls away as quick as he can, the salty, bitter taste takes over your senses as more sticky warmth splashes against your chest and bralette. He pants while you swallow hard, trying to gasp while fighting back coughs. In less than a minute, Steve looks like nothing has happened while you’ve barely managed to begin breathing somewhere ein a regular range.

The regular lights flutter back on, a humming noise that says the world is about to start back up again. He helps you to your feet, not bothering to wipe up the mess on your skin and instead buttoning the shirt higher.

“Was I good?” you croak out, wiping the sleeves across your face when the capsule jumps to life.

You don’t expect him to kiss you with his taste still in your mouth, you remembered overhearing Nat mention something about guys _hating_ that. It’s deep, almost loving, stealing the breath from you in a far different way than just moments before. A clap followed with a hoop and a holler breaks the moment, the doors having opened while you were distracted. Your cheeks heat, snatching the abandoned folder from the other side of the elevator, stepping around the mechanic crew too fast to catch the dark looks Steve shoots them. 


End file.
